A Much Needed Rest
by Genjutsu-Dragon
Summary: Kallian has defeated the archdemon, but lies unconscious and unwakeable after the final battle. My take on what happens between the explosion and the coronation in the game. Spoilers. Femslash. Oneshot.


**Drank too much energy drink, bored at 3a.m., plot bunny, non-explicit femslash. Some angsting, fluff later. Also, nobody mine, opening quote belongs to T.S. Eliot.**

** -Genjutsu-Dragon-**

**O**

_This is the way it ended – not with a bang, but with a whimper._

_ Kallian seized Leliana, pulling her in for a fierce kiss, primal and full of sorrow. Leliana could feel the Warden's tears running down her face, mingling with her own, before the elf pulled away sharply. In that moment it truly hit her that her lover was about to die. Kallian was already running, raising a sword she could never normally wield, heading for the fallen archdemon. Alistair's strong hands seized Leliana's arms and the bard had not even realised that she had been running after Kallian. There was nothing she could do. With a roar that echoed across the rooftop Kallian plunged the weapon into the dragon's skull. A pillar of white light shot upwards, and all sound seemed to fade to nothing as Kallian was encased in it, her hands apparently stuck to the hilt, struggling. Leliana was still struggling as the light drew inwards and then exploded out, knocking them all to the ground. Kallian was thrown back, her body slamming into the ground with a horrible crunch._

_ There was silence._

_ Leliana could not hear herself screaming, but she knew she must be. At long last Alistair released her, and she catapulted forwards, half-running, half-scrambling over the debris cluttering the way to the fallen Warden. Kallian's face was still and so pale. Her eyes were closed, her armour ridden with dents and breaks, her body small and broken. Leliana put her forehead to Kallian's and wept. She was aware of Alistair and Wynne drawing up beside her. The mage's head was bowed in reverence, but Alistair looked oddly…hopeful._

_ He removed one of his gloves and reached forwards, hesitantly. His hand slipped under Leliana's guard and before she could bat him away, he pressed two fingers against Kallian's neck. He shut his eyes and his mouth moved in what looked like a passage of the Chant. There was a pause that seemed to stretch on for years, and suddenly his eyes flew open, a joyous expression spreading across his face. "There's a pulse," he said, almost hysterical laughter bubbling in his throat. "She's alive!" Wynne was next, kneeling swiftly on the other side of Kallian from Leliana, her magic already searching the elf's body. _

_ "She truly is," the mage said with wonder. "But she is very badly injured. Alistair, get a stretcher and a few mages up here as quickly as possible. I will begin healing her wounds, but it will take some time." Alistair obeyed immediately, sprinting off into the upper levels of Fort Drakon. Wynne turned back to her charge, gently assessing the internal damage with her spells while gently rubbing poultices into any of the wounds she could reach outside Kallian's armour. Leliana felt numb. Under the thick black plate it was impossible to detect if the elf breathed, but she put her face close to Kallian's and felt the small brush of air. Leliana let out a single, broken sob, which trailed off into a whimper._

**O**

That had been a week ago. Kallian had been taken to a make-shift medical tent at first, and with her internal bleeding stopped and her bones repaired she had looked well on the way to recovery. They moved her to the Royal Palace and eagerly awaited her awakening. And waited. Kallian was still pale, still very still, with barely a flicker of movement to indicate that she lived. Jubilation at her survival had given way to worry as she had not stirred. She was completely healed, save a few light gashes that had been sewn shut, but thus far she remained unconscious.

Alistair, out of necessity, had already been crowned in a small ceremony almost immediately after the battle was over, although a more lavish event had been planned for later. He kept putting it off, hoping that Kallian would recover soon enough for him to see her face as the whole of Ferelden thanked an elf for their survival. He was not the only one putting his plans on hold. Sten should have left as soon as the Blight was over to report to his arishok, but thus far he remained, standing vigilant outside Kallian's room every day and scaring servants with his glower. Zevran, too, was freed from his oath, and also remained, although he was received by the castle maids with a great deal more welcome than the towering qunari. Wynne would have stuck around regardless, likewise the dog, and Oghren had proclaimed that if there was to be free ale at Alistair's reception he would stay. Alistair had chosen not to point out that this was a thinly-veiled excuse. In fact, the only one of their party who had left was Morrigan, who, true to her word, had vanished immediately after the battle was finished.

And, of course, there was Leliana. Ever watchful by her lover's bedside, murmuring tales and songs into the sleeping elf's ears. She dripped food into Kallian's mouth, but it was not enough – the Warden had not had enough to eat for months and she was wasting away before their eyes. Wynne had dragged Leliana away at one point and made her bathe, given her fresh trews and a tunic, but the moment she was finished the bard had been right back at Kallian's bed. At night she curled next to Kallian, holding the smaller form in her arms, waking each day with a prayer that Kallian would open her eyes and smile sleepily at her. Alistair was worried. Leliana was so concerned about her lover that her own health was deteriorating, despite Wynne's best efforts. And if Kallian were to die of mere starvation after all this – well, it would break the bard. Alistair had never been a truly religious man, but each evening found him kneeling at the foot of his bed, praying to the Maker who supposedly would not listen that another heart would not be broken.

After that week, Kallian was on the point of no return. She had never been fleshy to begin with, and now she was downright skeletal. Alistair turned to the Circle of Magi, summoning First Enchanter Irving.

"I don't know much about magic except dispelling it," he admitted sheepishly. "But I remember when we were taken over by that Sloth demon in the Circle, sent into our dreams. I know those 'nightmares' were an artefact of the demon, but I wondered – can a normal dream by accessed by a mage?" He was babbling, his desperation welling in his throat. "I mean, there was Redcliff, you sent Morrigan into the Fade using lyrium, I was thinking maybe you could do something like that and we could send somebody to talk to her…"

"Calm yourself, Your Majesty," Irving said. His stoic, ponderous voice was strangely comforting and despite himself Alistair relaxed a little. "It could be done, although success depends largely upon how willing Kallian is to leave her dreamspace." Irving fixed him with a hard look. "You have been through everything she has. After all of it, what did you want to do most?"

"Rest," Alistair said after a pause. "I didn't want to think about or do anything. I just wanted everything to stop while I regained myself." He pulled a sardonic expression. "So much for that – although I could order everyone to let me sleep in until noon."

"Rest, exactly," Irving said, ignoring his latter comment. "She was knocked unconscious by the explosion and needed to remain so while her wounds were healed. My theory is that she does not want to wake up and deal with anything just yet. She must be given a compelling reason to do so." Alistair could have hugged the man.

"So you'll try?"

"Of course," Irving replied. "It would be ill-mannered of the Circle to abandon our saviour." Alistair thought for a moment.

"Is it possible…to send Leliana in?" Irving raised an eyebrow at him.

"The Orlesian bard?"

"Yes," Alistair said, awkwardly. "They were…very close. If it can be done…" once, Alistair had been jealous of the instant bond formed between the city elf and the bard, but now he wanted nothing more than to see them both happy. And if Leliana could bring Kallian back…

"I'm afraid it cannot," Irving's voice interrupted his inner monologue. "It must be a mage. I know your intentions are good but a non-magical human simply cannot walk the Fade so freely, and may end up in the wrong place altogether. She could possibly end up in a dream of her own, or at the mercy of a demon. I will not risk that."

"Then let it be Wynne," Alistair said firmly. "She sees Kallian as a daughter."

"Very well. I will assemble the mages and obtain lyrium from the templars. We should be ready to begin this afternoon. Let Wynne know." Alistair nodded, bidding the First Enchanter goodbye and walking down the corridor to Wynne's room. He had been so happy when he had felt that faint fluttering under his fingers, the bud of hope he had held so gingerly suddenly blooming. Even with the massive physical trauma the archdemon had wrecked on her he had been so certain she would live. But the worrying thought occurred to him – what if she didn't want to? It was with a pensive expression that he entered the mage's quarters. Wynne immediately politely disengaged from the conversation she was having with Valendrian and turned towards the king.

"What's wrong, Alistair?"

"Well, technically nothing beyond Kallian's inevitable starvation," he said tonelessly. "I have persuaded Irving to send you into Kallian's dream and attempt to talk her into walking up." Wynne blinked at him.

"Please repeat that." Alistair did so, and Wynne was silent for a while. She stood, and walked towards Kallian's room, Alistair trailing in her footsteps. Leliana was asleep beside the Warden, heavy bags under her eyes with exhaustion. "It is an incredibly invasive thing to enter another's dreams, Alistair," she murmured. "When Kallian did it at the Tower, she became privy to secrets many of us would have preferred never to share. And she did not abuse the knowledge. That she did not use it to gain leverage simply increased my respect for her. And you are telling me to intrude upon hers?"

"She did it when she had to," Alistair said, hotly. "She stepped in and saved each of us from the same fate that awaits her now. I never thought I'd say this, but I'm willing to invade her privacy in exchange for not seeing my best friend die. Or seeing Leliana's heart get broken again." He looked at the sleeping form beside Kallian's. "She would not recover, Wynne. You know it full well." Wynne nodded.

"True, Alistair," she said. "I know it just as I knew the moment you mentioned the option of going into Kallian's dream that I would do it. I care for her, and Leliana, too much. They are both just girls, Alistair, as you are just a boy, all hardened by war. If she could be kept alive but asleep, I would do it, just to give her some temporary peace. I can't see either of them die." Alistair said nothing, but put his arms around the mage and let tears slide down his face. Wynne held him, rocking him gently and speaking low and soothingly as to a child. "She'll be all right, Alistair. Be calm. Be strong." After a few moments Alistair straightened up, wiping his eyes, and smiled at her.

"I have faith in you, Wynne," he said. "You could talk sense into an archdemon."

"If I could do that, the Blight would have ended at Ostagar," she said, allowing a small smile to cross her lips. "Now, go busy yourself with kingly duties. Irving will come for me when he is ready, and it is best not to have you hanging about biting your nails whilst I am gone." Alistair nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. Surely, now, it would all be alright.

Wynne sighed as the door shut behind him. If Kallian could not be persuaded to wake, it was the end. The magic that had sustained Arl Eamon could be used but she would know, one way or another, if the elf was willing to wake – or if she wished it had ended on the rooftop. Sighing, she began to mentally steel herself for the Fade, and prepared to wake Leliana. She might have sent Alistair away but she was damned if she was going to let the bard remain oblivious.

**O**

The lyrium washed over Wynne's body, blinding her temporarily and sending her falling through the murky air of the Fade. When she landed, her nose was filled with the smell of crushed grass, and she could hear water trickling over rocks nearby. She pushed herself upwards and took in her surroundings.

It was a beautiful forest grove. A completely clear stream with multi-coloured fish in it ran through one side. Gaps in the leaves allowed sunlight to filter through, leaving a dappled effect on the forest floor. The trees themselves appeared to be hung with spheres of white light, glowing softly. Everything shone. Beautiful flowers of every size and description bloomed around her feet, some of which Wynne had never encountered. Did they exist or had Kallian simply imagined them? Wynne turned her attention to the most curious thing about the place.

Four trees grew in a square, with branches connecting low to the ground. They were low, their closeness creating a smaller canopy. Resting on the branches was a thick mattress and furs, and tucked into them was Kallian. Wynne examined the sleeping elf. Her skin looked healthy, pink instead of white, and she had none of the scars that Wynne remembered. Instead of deathly still, she simply looked peaceful. Wynne cleared her throat.

"Sleeping in your own dream, Kallian?" she said. "How very lazy. The Wardens would not approve." Kallian rolled over, cracking open one eye sleepily.

"I should have known you'd be the first," she yawned. "It's good to see you again, Wynne. Sorry, even here there is little that appeals to me so much as sleeping."

"I can imagine," Wynne said, dryly. "That bed looks comfortable…wait, what do you mean, 'the first?'" Kallian shifted, bringing herself upright. Her eyes were heavy lidded and she looked at Wynne with some confusion.

"Well…you're older than the others, and that Fade thing was weakening in you…" she said hesitantly. "I didn't guess you'd get here first, but the more the merrier." Groaning, she reached under the bed and pulled out two goblets and an empty pitcher. She tilted the pitcher towards the first goblet, and ale came flowing out. Wynne took the goblet. The liquid smelt delicious, but she did not drink. She was frowning at Kallian.

"Kallian, do you think I'm _dead_?"

"Aren't you?" Kallian said, drinking.

"No. And neither are you." Kallian put the goblet down and stared at Wynne.

"Yes I am. I remember it clearly. I put the sword in the archdemon's head, it exploded, there was pain, and I woke up here. Where there is no pain, no scars, no filth, no death – it's a paradise." She raised a hand and a branch came spiralling down, bearing a ripe peach. She plucked it but did not eat, rubbing a thumb over its fuzzy surface. "Where could I do this, but in Heaven?" She looked at Wynne. "Maybe you're just confused. I was when I got here. Somehow, I thought Leliana would be waiting for me…" her voice dropped. "But that doesn't make sense, I died before her. I suppose I just have to wait a little longer." She pulled an apologetic face. "Not that I'm not glad for your company, Wynne. Being able to sleep all the time has been wonderful, but it gets a bit – repetitive."

"This is a dream, Kallian," Wynne said firmly. "You were very badly injured by the explosion, but your life was saved by Morrigan's ritual – which I thoroughly disapprove of, by the way," she said, with no venom in her voice. As much as the idea of Morrigan bearing an Old God chilled her spine, that both Wardens had lived allowed a great deal of forgiveness. "You've been healed, but you don't wake. Your body is starving, and as you get worse, so does Leliana." She fixed Kallian with a hard stare. "If you die, so will she."

Kallian raised a hand to her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut. "I don't want to believe it," she murmured. "This place is beautiful…and you came, didn't you?"

"This is the Fade, child," she said. "I'm afraid I have to do for you what you had to do for us at the Circle of Magi. But there are no demons trapping you here. Only yourself. Alistair sent me to fetch you and that is what I will do."

"But Wynne…" Kallian's voice was almost childishly pleading. "I'm so tired. I just don't want to…" Wynne shut her eyes. If Kallian said she didn't want to come back, that was it. Kallian paused. "I don't want to face that task again. I can't do it again." Wynne took her hands.

"And you don't have to. It's over. You are the Hero of Ferelden. You can go wherever you please and nobody will impose upon you. People pray for your health. You are free from every oath you have sworn." Kallian's eyes darkened.

"Save that of the Grey Wardens."

"And you think starving yourself to death is an honourable way of fulfilling it? I am disappointed in you," Wynne said. "There are people who care about you. Wardens will be coming in from Orlais. You may have to return to fighting the darkspawn some day but there is no rush. There will be no nightmares. The archdemon is gone." Kallian sighed.

"And I was enjoying this place so much."

"It is beautiful," Wynne said softly. "Is it…anywhere in real life?" It was a very personal question to ask, but Kallian did not seem offended.

"Not really," she murmured. "When I was in the alienage, I created this space as an escape. I…expanded upon it a little as we travelled. I always assumed that if I could get into anything resembling Heaven, this would be it. Maker, all this a dream," she said, brushing her hand over the furs that covered her legs. "It feels so…real."

"Please, trust me," Wynne pleaded. "What is worse – temporarily losing this place, or knowing you have caused the death of your dearest love?" Kallian looked up and for the first time Wynne spotted something of the elf she had been. Kallian smiled and opened her mouth to reply, when the air was filled with a soft voice. It was a nearly inaudible volume, but soft, and Wynne recognised some of the words as Orlesian. "That's…Leliana's voice," she said. "You could hear her?" Kallian blinked.

"I…could…"she said. "I just didn't realise it until now." The woods were becoming unfocused, the light dimming a little.

"It seems you have already made your decision about waking up," Wynne said, feeling the tug of the mages pulling her back. "See you in a few moments. I think you're going to be very sore – forgive me for that." Kallian nodded.

"Thank you," she said, but it sounded like a question. Wynne knew that Kallian would carry the vision of that wood in her head for the rest of her days, praying that it was what awaited her at the end. Wynne was swallowed up by the light, her last sight being Kallian stroking the rough bark of one of the trees at her bed.

**O**

"Wynne has returned." Irving's voice washed over Leliana as she intently studied her lover's face, looking for the slightest change. Despite Wynne's orders, Alistair had slunk back in. The rest of the party hovered in the hall, making room for the mages. Wynne hauled herself upright faster than somebody of her age should have been able to, making a beeline for Leliana.

"She can hear you," Wynne said. "Keep talking to her!" Leliana bent down and saw a pink flush beginning to spread along the elf's cheeks. She was murmuring, nonsense in Orlesian and Ferelden, repeatedly punctured with "Come back…come back, please, Kallian…" Her heart was hammering in her chest as Kallian's eyes began to move under her lids, and her eyebrows twitched. Leliana was not aware of when she climbed onto the bed, straddling Kallian and catching the elf's cheeks in her hands, leaning right in and whispering furiously to her.

"Don't you dare leave me now, you're so close…I'm right here…come back, come back, you can't come so close and just leave again, I'll never forgive you…" Kallian gave a slightly jerk and every nerve ending in Leliana's body cried out in joy as the elf's eyes opened. Weakly, Kallian lifted a hand and brushed a tear off Leliana's cheek.

"Like I'd just run off and abandon you," she laughed faintly. Leliana reached down and pulled the elf up into a tight embrace, syllables of thanks in both her languages spilling from her lips. "_Merci, Andraste notre dame, merci…_thank you, Maker, bless you…" Kallian lifted her arms with a wince and pressed Leliana's warm body to her, revelling in the feel of it. They were under no threat, there was no march to be done, no treaties to call upon, no battle to be fought. There was just…this, and she revelled in it, but her body was weak. Eventually, she let her hands drop, pressing a kiss to Leliana's lips before falling back on her pillows. Leliana scrambled off her but remained at her side, one of Kallian's hands grasped in hers, afraid that if she let go Kallian would leave again, this time for good. The others gathered around.

"How are you feeling?" Alistair asked.

"Like the archdemon sat on me," Kallian croaked. "Also, thirsty." Oghren passed her his mug and before Wynne could protest Kallian had tossed it back. "That's…sort of better," she said, her eyes becoming slightly unfocused.

"You're welcome, Warden," Oghren said. "Finest human piss I could find in the brewery. You're lucky I didn't find the good dwarven stuff." The dog ran around him, putting his paws on the side of the bed and panting happily as Kallian tickled his ears.

"Too right," Alistair said. "I don't want to knock her straight back out again!"

"It is good that you survived, kadan," Sten said with his usual lack of emotion. "Your land would have lost a true warrior."

"So women can be warriors now?" Kallian teased. Sten nodded.

"Yes. I will report this to the arishok when I return and see what I can do to change the Qun perception." Kallian smiled, and then winced. Her thumb was stroking Leliana's hand, and the bard did not miss Wynne's signal for everyone to clear out. She could not revel in Kallian quite yet – the Warden was too delicate for that right now – but she pressed herself as close to the elf as possible, drinking in her scent, her hands brushing over the soft skin. She laid her head on Kallian's chest, hearing the rhythmic thump within, each beat carrying with it a new thanks to the Maker. To have come so far and lost her at the very end would have been too much. Leliana looked into Kallian's eyes and knew she loved this woman, and always would, for the rest of both their lives and beyond. Leliana placed another kiss on Kallian's mouth, slow and lingering, full of promise for later.

"I love you," she said, savouring the words. It was not the first time she had said them and it was a long way from being the last.

"I love you too," Kallian said. "And by the way, you look like hell." Leliana swatted at her playfully.

"I take it back!" Kallian caught her hands.

"No you don't." And then her lips were against the bard's, pulling her down, and her kisses trailed along Leliana's skin, making her breath hitch.

"We shouldn't…you are still not well…"

"Since when did I care about a few bruises?" Kallian said. "I thought I was in Heaven. Prove me wrong." Leliana's concern broke and she laughed, looking down with tenderness and desire into the elf's eyes.

"Who am I to resist a challenge like that?"

**O**

Kallian looked magnificent, on the dais alongside Alistair. He in Cailan's golden armour, she in her Warden Commander's black crested plate, Grey Wardens both. He was giving a speech, and Leliana could not help but giggle had how adorably awkward they both looked at the attention. To be fair, Alistair was shaping into a fair speech-giver, but Kallian was shifting from foot to foot, obviously wishing to be away. When Alistair asked if she wanted a boon, she spoke on behalf of the alienage elves, and then reminded him about constructing a monument to the Wardens. Alistair looked more nervous, however, as he turned and asked what Kallian wished to do. She smiled.

"As per your request, I will stay in Denerim a while," she said. "I don't think it would harm me to sleep in a proper bed for a couple of months. Then, I think I will travel, before helping recruit new Wardens for the order."

"I am relieved to hear that," Alistair replied. "Now, go speak to everyone and then head outside. The people of Ferelden are waiting to greet their hero."

"As you wish…Your Highness," Kallian said.

"Shut up," Alistair muttered affectionately out of the corner of his mouth, waving for Kallian to descend the steps. She moved around the hall, speaking to each of her companions in turn, allowing Wynne to ruffle her hair like a proud mother. The dog followed close on her heels, slobbering affectionately on everyone. But it was obvious that despite her heartfelt goodbyes, she was waiting to get to one person. Leliana was resplendent in a blue dress that mattered her eyes exactly, her hair pinned up in an elaborate Orlesian fashion.

Kallian was still faintly wobbly and felt as though her knees were going to collapse under the weight of her armour, but she was stubborn. As she reached Leliana, she went up on her toes and kissed the bard with no care for anybody around her. Then, nervously, she stepped back.

"What are your plans?"

"I hear you're staying in Denerim," Leliana said, a soft laugh in her voice. "I believe I will stay with you. You've always known that, no need to look so worried." Kallian caught Leliana's hand in hers, her eyes alight with happiness.

"Maker, it's all over," she sighed. "It's finished. And I think I would have gone insane before the end if not for you."

"Charmer," Leliana teased. "For a mighty hero you certainly are a softie."

"I'm assuming you're aware of how cute you sound when you say the word 'softie'," Kallian replied with a raised eyebrow.

"Cute? Orlesian bards are dark seductresses, they are not _cute_," Leliana pouted. Kallian gave her a light peck on the lips.

"Don't make me take you in the middle of the Great Hall, woman," she said, laughing. "I think the king might object – although I doubt Zevran or Oghren would have a problem with it." Both women were smiling softly, lost in each other. Wynne cleared her throat.

"Sorry, Kallian, but I think you have to go greet the crowds now." Kallian rolled her eyes.

"Yes, mother," she said, missing Wynne's smile as she turned. She took Leliana's hand again and they walked towards the huge doors being hauled open for them by the guards. They gave each other's hands a squeeze.

"Never leave me?"

"Never."

The doors opened and they walked out together towards the cheering throng.

**O**

**Damn plot bunnies. Need sleep now. I apologise if this is unbearable cheesy. **


End file.
